


But Corpses Don't Drink Coffee

by cyanideniko



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Character Death, M/M, bc there was another one shot but then my laptop died, idk I'll see if I can extract the other one shot I wrote for this bc I lost it somewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 21:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16921071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideniko/pseuds/cyanideniko
Summary: Tumblr Prompt:Imagine your OTP meeting each other for the first time as they're disposing of freshly-killed bodies.





	But Corpses Don't Drink Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason, Xiuhan always pops up in my mind whenever I see twisted plot bunnies like these because I really love putting my favourite OTP into these kinds of situations. This was originally written as a one-shot, but somewhere along the way I started trying to branch the story out a little - let's see where this one goes.

Minseok has always hated autumn. As beautiful as the season is, it only leads to winter, which only means cold and snow and ice and annoying children running around throwing snowballs and generally creating a lot more noise than necessary.

Then again, autumn is definitely better than summer when it comes to trekking through the woods at 1 in the morning – it means less humidity and less mosquitoes buzzing around his head and biting any inch of exposed skin.

He huffs as he trudges on, dragging his bag with him. The woods are a lot darker than they seemed to be in the summer’s humidity, but the near pitch-black darkness doesn’t faze him. He’s been here enough times to at least know where he’s putting his feet, and the moon peeks out from behind the clouds every once in a while.

Finally choosing a spot next to a tree he’s sure he’s walked past on his previous visits, he sets down his bag and unzips it with gloved hands – this particular pair happens to be a personal favourite of his, brought out only on special occasions like tonight because they’re thick enough to keep his hands warm and protect them from chafing should he be handling anything rough, like the rope he’s pulling from his bag.

Looping the rope around the tree’s branches, he crouches next to the bag and focuses on relieving it of its contents. With a clumsy tug, a pale body tumbles out.

“Ah, I’m sorry.”

Turning the body over results in its face being hidden by a veil of dark hair, but Minseok can describe its features easily: 22-year-old Korean female by the name of Jin Joo-Yeon, large brown eyes sitting under thin eyebrows that were always arched up as though she was constantly in a state of mild surprise – those eyes would crinkle whenever she smiled or laughed, her lips usually painted dark red.

As he gently brushes her hair away from her face, the same eyes that shone for him now turn their unseeing gaze on him, as though Joo-Yeon is trying to ask him the question that never made it past her lips in her final moments alive.

_Why?_

“Why?” he echoes, the sides of his mouth quirking up. “Is that what you wanted to ask? I think the question is less _why_ and more _why not_ , though. So, why not? I was the hunter and you were the prey, it’s as simple as that.”

“Though the question is now what exactly I should do with you…” he muses with a slight frown. Several moments pass before he claps his hands together exactly twice, grinning delightedly at the corpse. “You were always so sweet to me, my dear – giving your heart to me so readily, though of course I never really knew what to do with it… I think I know what to do now.”

Straightening, he lifts the corpse with a soft grunt. He’s timed himself well, as always – it’s soon enough that rigor mortis hasn’t quite set in yet, but he hasn’t accounted for the cold air and how it makes the body unnaturally stiff and heavy and difficult to manoeuvre as he struggles to prop it against the tree.

It’s slow work, but he has the time he needs to create his masterpiece tonight. Besides, he enjoys this – working like this in the dark with only his voice and thoughts as company puts him in a good mood and he hums under his breath, busying himself with properly tying Joo-Yeon to the tree and making sure she won’t fall.

Now comes the tricky part, but Minseok is always prepared for almost anything. He walks over to his bag and retrieves a pair of wire cutters and a carving knife that he always keeps sharpened – a dull knife serves no purpose, after all. The wire cutters have proven handy in several situations when he’s had to ~~break in~~ unknowingly enter certain places to deliver his previous works of art.

Tonight, however, they will serve a different purpose.

Swapping his thick gloves for a pair of normal surgical ones, Minseok holds the knife with practised ease and stabs it into Joo-Yeon’s chest.

The blood spatters to the ground, and Minseok grimaces with distaste – he loathes getting himself this dirty, but the artist in him knows that this way is best to get the effect he wants so badly for his artwork. The blood dyes sections of her dress crimson, and copper and salt coat his tongue as well as the back of his throat with each breath he draws. It’s disgusting, sure, but there’s a sense of headiness too, a muted sense of euphoria that Minseok wouldn’t give up for the world.

He finds it ironic that his own heart is beating fast as adrenaline courses through his veins.

Sawing the blade through in a roughly circular fashion gives him a cavity in Joo-Yeon’s chest deep enough that he can just make out the dull white of her rib cage – this is where he picks up the wire cutters and uses them to split the bones open, and hums absentmindedly as he digs her unbeating heart out and places it in her clammy hands. Holding heart and hands together, he then loops the rest of his rope around a branch above and ties it around her hands to keep them up.

There. Now she’s offering her heart – literally.

Satisfied, Minseok takes a step back to admire his work, but his heart just about stops when he hears something he definitely shouldn’t be hearing when he’s standing in a forest in the middle of the night.

Soft, slow clapping.

Minseok may have prepared for almost anything, but he certainly didn’t expect _this_. Don’t let whoever it is know they’ve surprised you, he tells himself as he turns to face the direction of the clapping. Don’t make any sudden movements – they might have a gun, he reminds himself as he slowly crouches to pick up his wire cutters lying on the ground. He won’t be able to stab whoever it is with them, but they’re comfortingly heavy and should be able to deal a fair amount of damage to a person’s head.

His voice is surprisingly steady as he calls out into the semi-darkness. “Don’t you know it’s rude to spy on others?”

The voice that floats back to him doesn’t sound remotely threatening, but he doesn’t dare to let his guard down. “Well, I didn’t want to disturb your work – you were so focused, and I think that as rude as it is to spy on someone while they work it’s ruder to disturb them, don’t you?”

“So you’re a spy with manners,” Minseok snorts. “Well, why don’t you come out so I can have a better look at you?”

“Your wish is my command,” the voice sings out, and out steps someone whom Minseok is sure he’s never seen before despite having lived in the town for close to three years.

If he has to describe him as honestly as he can, the man – or is it boy, he’s not sure – standing in front of him is _beautiful_ , in a vapid sort of way. Not really his type, but he can’t deny that he _is_ attractive.

That is, until said boy (seriously, is he a boy or a man..?) shoots him the creepiest fucking smile he’s ever seen.

Minseok throws the wire cutters.

*

“Wh-” The boy-man hastily ducks and the wire cutters miss the top of his head by mere inches, striking a tree behind him with an ominous-sounding thud. “W-what the actual fucking _fuck_?! What the fuck!”

It takes several minutes for him to convince Minseok that he means no harm whatsoever (“I was just watching you, dammit, did you really just try to _kill_ me?!”), but even then Minseok remains wary, keeping in mind that creepy-as- _fuck_ smile as well as the fact that the stranger has seen entirely too much.

“What’s your name?” He demands, watching him closely in case he decides to make a run for it. “What the hell’s a boy like you doing here? Why were you watching me?”

The boy-man is very obviously still rattled, and his voice is several notches higher than how it originally sounded as he squeaks out his response in slightly accented Korean. “My name’s Lu Han, and I’ll have you know I’m 24 and definitely a _man_ and not a boy!”

So now Minseok has a name and an age. All he needs is a purpose. “What’re you doing here then?” He asks. If Lu Han can’t give him a satisfactory answer, Joo-Yeon might have a beautiful stranger for company tonight.

Lu Han hesitates for a moment, seeming to weigh his options before he shrugs and drags a large duffel bag in front of Minseok. “This might answer your question.”

There’s only one reason why anyone would be in a place like this at this timing with a duffel bag, and Minseok doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry because really now what were the odds that he’d meet someone with such similar interests?

Wordlessly, Minseok unzips the duffel bag to reveal the bloodless face of a boy who can’t possibly be older than 21. “Got into a fight with your boyfriend?”

Lu Han shrugs again. “I don’t actually know who he is – I was just looking for some fun tonight and he happened to be a pretty face.”

“You mean to tell me you do this on impulse?” Minseok forces aside his growing incredulity and focuses on the corpse. Pretty face indeed, with his sharp features and slightly pouty mouth – even in death, the boy’s looks could kill.

“Well, yeah. How else do you do it?” Lu Han looks amused as he crouches next to Minseok and searches through the corpse’s pockets, finding a wallet and student ID card that Minseok recognises from one the local universities. “Kim Jongin. 20 years old, performing arts student.”

“Well, you observe them first, don’t you? See if anyone’s going to start asking pesky questions or anything if they disappear.” Minseok feels genuinely confused, not understanding how anyone could go through something like this without a proper plan.

Lu Han’s still looking through Jongin’s wallet. “Do you? I don’t know, that sounds kind of boring to me. Aw, he’s got a sweetheart. Look!” he says, shoving a picture into Minseok’s face. Minseok registers big eyes and heart-shaped lips, but that’s hardly important at the moment because _did Lu Han just call his modus operandi boring_. He barely manages to hold on to his usual cool.

“How do you kill then?”

“Hmm?” Lu Han’s still staring at the photo. “Well… I just do it – I just choose anyone when I’m in the mood and go for it. It’s all about the thrill, you know?”

“So you’re a thrill seeker. Live fast, die young and all that.” Minseok doesn’t really know what to say – for him, it’s always been about the hunt, the slow methodical stalking of his prey.

“I suppose you could say that,” Lu Han says as he tears his eyes from the photo and proceeds to pull a shovel out of the duffel bag. “I get bored easily, and this is fun to me.”

Fun. Lu Han is so infuriatingly flippant about everything that it makes Minseok want to hit him.

It also, he realises, makes him want to kiss the bastard.

Wait, what?

Minseok mentally slaps himself. This won’t do, he tells himself as he watches Lu Han mutter to himself while pacing around. Get a goddamn grip because he’s not your type, plus he kills people and you kill people and there is no way this has a chance in hell of working out. “What’re you doing?”

He’s asking just to fill the silence that stretches between them, but Lu Han answers anyway. “I’m looking for a good place to put our dear friend Jongin – should I leave him around here or do I bring him further in..?”

Lu Han starts pacing and muttering, and truthfully speaking Minseok feels rather content to just sit back beside Jongin and watch. That’s only because he enjoys watching others, of course, and because he has time to spare what with Joo-Yeon sitting pretty in the tree behind them. It’s not because he wants to watch Lu Han in particular. He’s just bored.

Lu Han continues to pace and mutter before he whirls around. “That’s it!” he crows, excitedly pointing the shovel at a very confused Minseok. “I’ll put Jongin here with your girl!”

“What?”

“Think about it!” Lu Han’s still waving the shovel around and Minseok’s slightly worried he might lose an eye if he’s not careful. “You’re in the news as one of the country’s biggest serial killers, and if the police find another body where you leave your latest corpse sculpture they’ll think that you’ve made contact with another killer and panic. It’s such a cool idea, I can’t believe it didn’t hit me before.”

Minseok can hardly agree with Lu Han about how cool his idea really is, but figures it hardly matters – it’s not like he owns this part of the woods anyway, and the thought of giving the police something to sweat about does make him more excited than he wants to admit.

So he shrugs. “Do what you want, it’s your body to take care of after all.”

“Aw, don’t be so cold,” Lu Han whines as he turns and bows to Joo-Yeon, still watching them from where she stands bound. “Excuse me, milady – I leave in your company a fine young man, but I’m afraid he’s not yours to share.”

*

Lu Han works fast when he wants to, but he also chatters a lot.

“In all honesty, I never really thought you’d look like that,” he confesses. “I mean, if we count your girl tonight then you’ve killed 9 people over 8 months, and the police still don’t have a clue about anything – they don’t know what you look like or have any clues about where to start looking.”

“So you expected me to have devil horns or blood dripping down my teeth?”

“Yes – I mean _no_.” Lu Han corrects himself, shooting a mild glare at Minseok who’s laughing at him. “I just didn’t expect that you’d look so _normal_ , that’s all. You look like a _baozi_! Chinese steamed bun,” he explains.

Minseok has always known that he has puffy cheeks, but getting called a steamed bun really takes the cake.

“Anyway,” Lu Han continues. “I shouldn’t be saying this since you almost tried to kill me just now but it’s really quite the honour to meet you – I got into this because of you, so I guess you could say that you’re like my idol, if you want to look at it that way.”

“The only reason why I did that was because you were watching me work like some creeper.” Minseok shoots back, adding: “And it didn’t help that you have the weirdest smiles I’ve ever seen.”

“Still,” he adds. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me. Your style differs from mine from what I hear in the news though – you bury your bodies, but then you always take something to bait the police with.”

Lu Han laughs as he climbs out of the hole he’s dug and walks over to where Minseok’s sitting. “That’s right! I’m even more flattered now that I know my idol’s been keeping an eye on what I do – help me, will you?” he adds as he lifts Jongin by one arm and nods to the other. Minseok mutely complies by lifting as well, and together they heave the body into the hole Lu Han has dug.

“He’s heavier than when I dragged him here,” remarks Lu Han as he wipes a grimy hand over his face (Minseok tries his best to hide a shudder). “Anyway, I can’t forget to take a little something… I guess this’ll do.”

And with that, he takes Jongin’s student ID card, tosses the wallet into the hole and starts scraping earth and dirt back in. Minseok watches for a while before speaking up.

“Well, Lu Han, it’s been great talking to you and all, but I should probably go – dawn’s in a few hours and I don’t want to be anywhere near this area.”

“Hang on!” Lu Han pauses in his work to look at him. “I know this sounds incredibly cheesy, but I’d like to see you again, though maybe not in some godforsaken place in the middle of the night next time.”

Minseok blinks. He’s been asked out before, but not like this. “This isn’t going to be like one of those B-rated horror flicks where you give me a heart and ask me out, is it?”

Lu Han grins. “It can if you want it to be – myself, I prefer asking attractive people out for a coffee first.” Minseok groans, and he continues: “There’s a café I know called Knock on Wood, and despite the terrible name their Americano’s good enough to _kill_. How about I see you there on the third of next month?”

“I can’t promise anything, but you _might_ see me there.” Minseok won’t make promises to someone he still isn’t quite sure he can trust, but he finds himself grinning as he walks away.

Maybe Lu Han _is_ his type after all.


End file.
